


there's a million things i haven't done

by seeingrightly



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Anxiety, F/M, M/M, Multi, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-12 23:31:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5685823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seeingrightly/pseuds/seeingrightly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things in the First Order were clinical, and quiet, and different than they are out here, in the world, the actual world. Out here, there aren’t set rules, even though people tend to think there are. Finn doesn’t know how people keep the rules straight, when they’re different from one planet to the next, one ship to the next, from person to person, just depends who you ask or what day it is or what direction you look. He feels dizzy, sometimes, out here, dizzy like an explosion ringing in your ears and sand burning your eyes, dizzy like a TIE fighter going down, out here. </p>
<p>That doesn’t mean he’d ever go back. He’d rather get in trouble every five minutes, out here, getting tisked at by Dr. Kalonia - how many times can I tell you not to touch that before you listen - for scratching at the bandages wrapped around his torso, for sitting up too quickly, for not sleeping, for getting up and looking out the window of the little room they have him in.</p>
<p>She’d yell at him if he left, if he took off the bandages and went outside and sat down in the grass and hoped that wherever Rey’s gone, there’s green.</p>
<p>She’d yell at him, but he could do it, he could, so he stays in this little room and waits to be healed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	there's a million things i haven't done

**Author's Note:**

> warning: some mild elements of depersonalization, just in case?
> 
> title from "satisfied" from hamilton because i listened to it approximately a billion times while writing this

Finn hears a mechanical whirring. It’s not the hum that comes with being on a ship. It’s  something gentler, more alive, moving around below wherever he’s lying.

 

“I told you to be quiet,” a voice says softly. “I want him to wake up too, but he’s gotta heal, BB-8.”

 

He turns his head toward the voice, but Finn can’t get his eyes to open yet, and he feels a hand come to rest on his chest.

 

“Hey, buddy,” Poe says.

 

Finn lets out a noise that’s halfway between a hum of greeting and a cough.

 

“Take it easy,” Poe says. “BB-8 is getting the doctor.”

 

If she arrives, Finn doesn’t hear it, because he falls back to sleep.

 

-

 

Finn dreams of Rey. She’s flying, always, sitting at the controls, heading somewhere even when she doesn’t know where. She smiles so wide that her lips crack, and her tears burn. She laughs. She has no copilot. She’s always flying, and she knows what she’s doing even when she doesn’t.

 

-

 

Things in the First Order were clinical, and quiet, and different than they are out here, in the world, the actual world. Out here, there aren’t set rules, even though people tend to think there are. Finn doesn’t know how people keep the rules straight, when they’re different from one planet to the next, one ship to the next, from person to person, just depends who you ask or what day it is or what direction you look. He feels dizzy, sometimes, out here, dizzy like an explosion ringing in your ears and sand burning your eyes, dizzy like a TIE fighter going down, out here.

 

That doesn’t mean he’d ever go back. He’d rather get in trouble every five minutes, out here, getting tisked at by Dr. Kalonia - _how many times can I tell you not to touch that before you listen_ \- for scratching at the bandages wrapped around his torso, for sitting up too quickly, for not sleeping, for getting up and looking out the window of the little room they have him in.

 

She’d yell at him if he left, if he took off the bandages and went outside and sat down in the grass and hoped that wherever Rey’s gone, there’s green.

 

She’d yell at him, but he could do it, he _could_ , so he stays in this little room and waits to be healed.

 

-

 

Poe visits, when he can, when he’s not busy. He sits down and leans against the edge of Finn’s bed like he knows him, like he’s known him. He tells Finn what’s going on, on the base, elsewhere, the stuff that Dr. Kalonia and the general won’t tell him.

 

“Are you allowed to tell me this?” Finn asks him once.

 

It’s the third day he’s been awake and relearning how to use the muscles in his back, and he’s tired, and he wants to know. Poe, elbows on his knees, smiles up at him, crooked and sweet.

 

“Will you feel better if I say yes?” he asks, and Finn frowns.

 

“ _You’ll_ feel better if you don’t get into trouble,” he says.

 

“The general is used to me breaking the rules when I think it’s for the best,” Poe says, shrugging.

 

At the door, Dr. Kalonia clears her throat, and Finn jumps, guilty, but Poe stands and smiles at her.

 

“I hear you’re taking great care of my pal here,” he says, backing out of the way as she comes to check the machines near the bed.

 

“That better be what you’re hearing,” she mutters as she pokes around. “Are you ready to take another walk?”

 

It’s the first time she’s remembered not to try to call him _Mister Something_ , forgetting he doesn’t have a last name, or technically even a first one. When he nods, she helps him sit up all the way, shift his legs over the side of the bed, and slowly stand, grunting quietly at the tightness in his back.

 

“Steady?” she asks, and he nods again. “Okay, I think it would be good for you to get some fresh air, if this one will accompany you.”

 

Poe steps quickly to Finn’s side, putting a hand up and holding it somewhere behind him, and Finn begins to stiffly make his way for the door. It’s not hovering, what Poe’s doing, exactly, because Finn is fine, but his arm is there just in case, and it’s - caring.

 

Poe isn’t clinical, or quiet, or like anyone Finn knew before or anyone he knows now, out here. Poe is a warm hand on Finn’s shoulder, a tiny gap between front teeth, curls that don’t sit still, a laugh just before he starts speaking.

 

Finn stops when they make it to the edge of the grass. It’s just getting dark, and the clothes they put him in are thin, and he thinks about the jacket that’s folded up on the table in one corner of the little room they have him in.

 

“She’s that way,” Poe says, pointing. “You see that pinkish star right there? Rey’s just past that one.”

 

Finn stares til his vision goes blurry.

 

-

 

Finn dreams of Rey, but it’s different. She’s flying, at first, and she has no copilot, but she loses control. She closes her eyes and everything goes dark and Finn is jolted as she is, but when they open their eyes, they’re in a field. It’s raining, and Finn is standing in front of Rey, he’s looking right at her, but he doesn’t notice Kylo Ren standing over her shoulder until she does. She flinches away, crawls backward on the muddy ground, and Finn can feel the mud between his own fingers as he reaches out to her, feels the rain on his lips as they both yell, _no_ -

 

They’re back on Jakku, and Rey is sitting, scrubbing away at scraps of metal, surrounded by others doing the same, no one talking, no one really looking at each other. After a few moments, she jumps, startled out of her work, and she looks around, tense, but something wild in her eyes, like she’s not sure why she’s here, why she’s back here. She shakes her head, gathers up her scraps, and heads over to a creature sitting behind a high counter. She hands over her collection, and he says, _hm_ , and he says, _this is worth half a portion_ , and Rey says, _last week this was worth three portions_ , a growl in her voice, like she’s had this argument before, like she knew she’d end up back here. Like she’s used to the rules changing. The creature points a hand at Rey and she doesn’t flinch but Finn does and -

 

They’re in another field. No, it’s a swamp, maybe, surrounded by trees, the air thick and oppressive. To one side is water, fog rising thickly from its surface, and to the other - a cave. Finn can’t see the cave, but he knows it’s there, and he knows it’s bad. Rey takes a step toward it, and he yells again, _no_ , and this time she hears him, turns and looks right at him, her eyes wide, and she says, _Finn,_ and she says, _how did you get here_ , and Finn reaches out and right as his fingertips brush her wrist, they wake up.

 

He’s breathing hard, in the dark, in the little room they have him in, and he’s cold.

 

He rolls onto his side, even though it hurts, because he’s used to sleeping that way, in the small bunks of the First Order, and his heart is racing but he needs to go back to sleep, he needs to find Rey again.

 

It was Rey. Truly Rey. He doesn’t know how, he doesn’t know how he knows, but it was. The quiet gasp and the tight line of her mouth when he startled her, the way her voice hardened after just one trembling syllable - it was Rey. He knows.

 

He rubs his fingertips together. They’re warm.

 

He knows.

 

Rey isn’t clinical, or quiet, or like anyone Finn knew before or anyone he knows now, out here. Rey is grimy fingers wrapped firmly around his, loose strands of hair clinging to sweaty temples, sand-burned calves, a moment of stillness before widened eyes and a wider smile.

 

He closes his eyes and steadies his breathing, matching it to the hum of the machines that still surround him, the way he’d match it to the hum of the ship he lived on every week of his life until this one, as far back as he can remember. He needs to find Rey again.

 

-

 

Things in the First Order were clinical, and quiet, and different than they are out here, where Finn doesn’t know how things work. He doesn’t want to stand still, but he thinks, sometimes, now that he’s still, he thinks if he moves too quickly, he’ll get so dizzy that he’ll fall.

 

When he was running, rules didn’t matter. Getting away from the First Order mattered - getting Rey away from the First Order mattered.

 

And now he’s here, out here, sitting on this bed they have him in, sitting still.

 

Someone knocks on the doorframe, and he doesn’t have to look to know it’s Poe. He can hear BB-8 in the hallway.

 

“You okay?” Poe asks, hovering in the doorway.

 

“Weird dreams,” Finn says, finally looking away from the window.

 

Poe gets a funny look on his face, but it shifts quickly into something softer, and he moves over to lean against the foot of the bed, his arms crossed.

 

“Can I make a suggestion?” he asks, and he’s always doing that, now that they’re here, now that they’re not running a mission, now that he doesn’t have to be in charge - he’s always asking.

 

“Sure,” Finn says.

 

“Talk to the general,” Poe says. “She knows a lot more about the Force than she lets on.”

 

“If she doesn’t like to talk about it...” Finn says, and Poe smiles.

 

“If she gives you a hard time, tell her I sent you,” he says. “Then she’ll be annoyed with me instead of you.”

 

Finn wonders if Poe is this willing to break the rules for everyone, or if it’s just him. The teasing tip of Poe’s head as he waits - that doesn’t help him figure it out.

 

“Okay,” Finn says. “Do you know where I can find her?”

 

Poe claps his hands together and moves forward to help Finn get off of the bed, his hands firm on Finn’s arms.

 

“I can bring you,” he begins, but Finn holds up a hand, once he’s steady.

 

“No, I’m ready,” he says. “Just tell me where to look.”

 

Poe stares at him for a long moment, not like he doesn’t believe Finn, but like he wants to be sure before he steps away. Finn reaches out and grabs Poe’s shoulder.

 

“I’m ready,” he says, and Poe nods and tells him the way.

 

-

 

Finn finds the general at the far end of a storage space in the base. Her hair is braided into a series of knots on the back of her head, intricate and efficient. She’s sitting by the window. Finn wonders what she hopes Han finds wherever he is now.

 

“General,” he says, “can I ask you a question?”

 

She startles, just a little, and turns slowly to look at him, and by the time she does her eyes are sharp and the corners of her mouth are turned up just a little, curious, ready to curl, or bite.

 

“Have a seat,” she says, gesturing to the large metal container next to the one she’s sitting on.

 

He’s not sure what they contain or if they should be sitting on them. He hopes they’re not explosives.

 

“What can I help you with?” she asks, and then she pauses. “Well, I hope I can help you.”

 

“Did, um,” he says. “With your brother. Were your dreams… Are they ever… weird?”

 

He winces, and the general raises her eyebrows, and she looks amused, and she looks sad.

 

“Yes,” she says, “although some elaboration would help.”

 

Finn rubs his palms against the rough fabric of the pants they put him in and he looks out the window. C-3PO is unsteadily chasing R2-D2 across the grass, up a hill. They’ve been doing this for so long.

 

“I dream about Rey,” he says. “Or - dream with Rey. It feels real. What she’s seeing and feeling, what _I’m_ seeing and feeling. Is it real?”

 

The general looks out the window, too, but Finn thinks she’s looking at something farther away.

 

“What you’re experiencing is real,” the general says. “The events in the dreams might be from the past, or the future, or they might never occur.”

 

“But it’s really Rey,” Finn says, and she nods.

 

“You’re connected,” the general says. “She doesn’t know it yet. She can reach out to you, or she can shut you out. My brother will teach her.”

 

She folds her hands on her lap and looks down at them.

 

“So if something goes wrong, she can tell us?” Finn asks.

 

The general smiles, small and tight.

 

“They can ask for help if they need it,” she says. “They probably won’t. But you’ll probably sense it anyway.”

 

“Okay,” Finn says, and he stands. “Thank you. I’ll keep listening.”

 

-

 

Things in the First Order were clinical, and quiet, and different than they are out here, out in the world where the rules don’t make any sense, out in the world where Finn has to close his eyes for just a moment before he takes a step forward.

 

His back is healed. He’s still stiff and sore, but there’s nothing more that the doctor can do for him except make him take walks, and stretch, and other things he’d be doing anyway. But he’s still in this little room, and he knows it’s because they’re not sure what else to do with him.

 

The thing is - he’s not part of the Resistance. He’s just a guy who wound up helping it.

 

He sits on a bed that’s not his and closes his eyes.

 

He knows where Rey is. He’s seen the map. He knows what direction she’s gone, what part of the sky to find her. He’s felt her reaching out to him.

 

He closes his eyes and he reaches.

 

He’s not really sure how, what part of himself to reach with, what part of her to reach for, but he closes his eyes and he breathes and he reaches.

 

There’s a knock on the doorframe.

 

“You okay?” Poe asks, and Finn almost laughs.

 

“Yeah,” he says. “I was just - trying something.”

 

Poe comes and sits down, dragging the chair closer like he always does, looking pleased.

 

“You talked to the general,” he says. “Any luck?”

 

“No,” Finn says, and then he corrects himself: “Not yet.”

 

“I’m sure she could help you,” Poe says. “The general. She could help you figure out how to - communicate with Rey.”

 

There’s something a little off about the way he’s speaking. He’s as earnest as ever, but he’s not leaning forward in his chair, and he seems hesitant. Finn waits.

 

Poe sighs a little and runs a hand over his hair.

 

“The general sent me here to ask you something, actually,” he says, a little rueful. “She’s wondering if, when you’re feeling up to it, of course, if you’ll give us more information about how things work inside the First Order. Whatever information you might have. This is a huge opportunity -”

 

Poe winces and runs his hand over his hair again.

 

“Look,” he says, leaning close. “You didn’t sign up for this. You’re here because you got away from something you never wanted to be a part of, and no one here is gonna make you do anything you don’t wanna do. You’ve helped us, and there’s a place for you if that’s what you want. But we’ll keep you safe even if you don’t want to be a part of the Resistance.”

 

“The general said all that,” Finn says, skeptical, and Poe smiles.

 

“Not word-for-word,” he admits, “but that doesn’t mean it’s not true. Don’t worry.”

 

He reaches out and grasps Finn’s hand, squeezing briefly, and before he can let go, Finn turns his hand to hold onto Poe’s for a few seconds longer.

 

“Thank you,” he says. “I believe you.”

 

Poe nods, looking a little startled, taking his hand back slowly once Finn releases it. Something loosens in Finn’s chest with the slide of Poe’s fingers against his, with the options lying in front of him, and for a second he feels dizzy, but it isn’t bad.

 

“Tell the general I’m thinking about it,” Finn adds, and Poe nods, goes to stand.

 

“Wait,” Finn says, because now that there are paths to move down, he doesn’t want to be still.

 

Poe sits back down, leaning close, leaning closer.

 

“Did you know that in the First Order I worked in sanitation?” Finn asks, and Poe laughs, surprised, delighted, ready for more.

 

-

 

Before Finn goes to sleep, he reaches out to Rey, toward that pinkish star, toward where she was heading on that puzzle-piece map. He reaches out to the feeling of her sweaty fingers in his, and her arms around his neck, and the way she tried not to smile too widely when she said, _I’m Rey_.

 

Finn dreams of Rey, and it’s not just a dream. He opens his eyes in the cockpit of the Millennium Falcon, standing with his arms braced on the back of the seats, and they’re flying, and Rey looks over her shoulder and she laughs.

 

“Luke said this would happen,” she says.

 

“So did the general,” Finn says, and he sits in the other seat. “How are you?”

 

Rey laughs again. She looks comfortable, absent-mindedly steering the ship along, wherever they’re going, but Finn’s not sure if they look how they actually look, here. He can feel her, sitting there next to him, but not the way you feel the warmth of another body nearby - something different. It’s _Rey_ , sand under fingernails and tightly coiled warmth, her energy, bright. She feels the same but she feels new, steady, not the steeliness of a girl on the run but something comfortable. Something steady.

 

“You’re the one who got hurt,” she says. “Are you healed?”

 

She reaches out, like she’s going to check, but she lets her hand drop back to the controls.

 

“I’m fine,” Finn says. “Your dreams -”

 

“We don’t have to talk about that,” Rey says quickly. “It’s normal.”

 

“ _Normal_ normal, or since-you-found-out-you’re-a-Jedi normal?”

 

Rey sighs, looking away, and blows a loose strand of hair out of her face.

 

“A bit of both,” she says, “and I’m not a Jedi yet, I’m a padawan. I have so much to learn.”

 

“Are you? Learning?” Finn asks.

 

“Oh, yes,” she says quietly, and after a moment she turns to him again. “What are you doing, other than healing?”

 

Finn makes a face, and Rey looks halfway between amused and concerned.

 

“I don’t know yet,” he says. “I’ve given them some information about the First Order, but other than that…”

 

“It’s different, isn’t it,” Rey says. “Being in one place, but not because you have to.”

 

Finn laughs. He leans back in his seat and he laughs until his eyes water.

 

“Yes,” he says, finally. “It is. It’s different. And I don’t even have a magical destiny to learn about now.”

 

Rey punches him lightly in the shoulder, and he grabs her hand. She tugs it away and rests it on top of his nearer hand, lets him close his fingers around hers.

 

-

 

Finn doesn’t know, yet, what things are like in the Resistance. Not really. He doesn’t know what he’d be signing up for, what he’d be offering to do or how to do it. Doesn’t know if he’s ready to stay in one place, now that he’s out here, in the world.

 

But Poe seems to know that, it seems like he doesn’t want to trap Finn, it seems like he doesn’t feel trapped himself - Poe seems comfortable. Free. Steady. Always there, always close, but never closer than he thinks Finn wants him.

 

There’s the time Finn tries to give Poe his jacket back - the first time, anyway. Poe notices he has it on, and Finn starts to take it off, and Poe says, _keep it_ , and he says, _it suits you_ , and he pulls his bottom lip into his mouth and claps Finn on the arm hard, hard enough to startle him out of staring, and he says, _you’re a good man, Finn_.

 

The second time he tries to give it back happens when Finn is barely out of surgery, and he doesn’t remember it, but Poe tells it like a lullaby, later, when Finn is still recovering, still only half awake. He tells it like, _you thought you were dreaming_ , and he tells it like, _you could barely get the words out but I knew what you were pointing at_ , and the corners of his eyes crinkle as he tells it like, _you tried to get out of the bed but I stopped you before you could hurt yourself_.

 

Finn hasn’t worn the jacket since he’s woken up, but he thinks he might, if only to see what Poe does, what anyone else does, when they see this ex-stormtrooper who they barely know wearing Poe’s battered jacket. He wonders if they’ll see how comfortably it fits.

 

Poe could see it, anyway.

 

He thinks, maybe, Rey would see it too, Rey who’s found steadiness in something that’s always been a part of her, something she’s just discovering for the first time. Rey who he can share a ship with even though neither of them have ever flown it before, can share a weapon with even though they thought it was a myth. Rey who came to him in a dream and told him, _this is where I’ve always wanted to be_ , told him, _it feels right and I trust that_ , told him, _you know it’s okay if you don’t get that feeling too, right,_ and, _you know you don’t have to decide what to do til you want to_.

 

Finn wants to decide, doesn’t want to stand still, but he’s dizzy, and the only times he feels steady, out here, the only times he feels steady is when he’s standing with Poe or standing with Rey, and he doesn’t know what step to take next.

 

-

 

See, things in the First Order were clinical, and quiet, and different than they are out here, so different that he can’t breathe sometimes. In the First Order everything was closed eyes and whispers, don’t ask about what you don’t want to know, keep your eyes forward at all times, don’t look back. Finn wasn’t very good at that. He was good on paper, better than a lot of them, but when they weren’t looking - he wasn’t very good at that.

 

Don’t befriend your bunkmates, because they might die tomorrow. Don’t talk while completing your duties - anyone from your shift might die tomorrow. Don’t stop to help that trooper who’s been hit, FN-2187. He’s already dead.

 

He wasn’t very good at that.

 

Play card games between shifts, but don’t talk. Wonder if your bunkmate remembers her family, but don’t ask. Look at the scars on the neck of the person sitting in front of you in the canteen, but don’t wonder how they go there, if they hurt, if anyone has ever asked -

 

Have sex with your bunkmate, sometimes, until he dies. Have sex with the trooper you have every other shift with, sometimes, until she dies. Don’t kiss them. Don’t talk to them. Don’t care.

 

He wasn’t very good at that.

 

See, things in the First Order were clinical, and quiet, and different than they are out here. Here, Poe leans toward Finn and waits for him to take that final step. Here, Rey is reaching out, uncertain and confident, to find him. Out here, in the world, Finn can care.

 

Finn cares so much that he can’t breathe sometimes.

 

-

 

Finn leaves this little room they have him in, this room that isn’t his, to find the general. She’s out on the grounds, overseeing a hand-to-hand training session, and she looks pleased to see him when he stops at her side.

 

“Finn,” she says. “Any luck?”

 

“Yes,” he says, smiling. “It worked.”

 

“Good news,” she says. “And have you given any thought to what Commander Dameron asked you?”

 

“Yes,” Finn laughs. “I’ve given it a lot of thought, actually. Too much thought.”

 

The general turns to face him fully. She reaches out an arm, hesitates for a moment, and when he doesn’t move away, she brings her hand to his shoulder.

 

“Having a choice like this for the first time is not easy,” she says. “I don’t know of anyone else who’s had to deal with exactly what you’re dealing with, Finn. But hopefully there will be more. And you can help us understand, and help them understand, how to get through it.”

 

Finn looks down at her hand on his arm, small and steady.

 

“You would help other people like me,” he says, and he thinks maybe it’s the first time he’s called them that, people, all of them, each of them.

 

“I’ll admit it’s not something we’ve really considered before,” she says ruefully. “But we’re more than ready to listen to what you have to say.”

 

“Okay,” Finn says, and he believes her. “I’ll tell you everything I know about the First Order. I’ll tell you how to help.”

 

The general smiles and brings her other hand up to squeeze at his biceps. She opens her mouth to speak, but Finn cuts her off.

 

“And I,” he starts, and he takes a deep breath. “I want to train. Hand-to-hand, how to fly, how to use your weapons. I want to join the Resistance. And I - I’d like to talk to you more about the Force. If you’re okay with that, General.”

 

He presses his lips together, wondering if he’s gone too far, if he was only asked to join the Resistance so he’d give them information - but she laughs, an unexpectedly loud sound.

 

“Oh, wonderful,” she says, and then she smirks. “Can I be there when you tell Dameron? I want to see the look on his face.”

 

-

 

It’s not normal to start learning how to fly by sitting in an X-wing, but they don’t have a lot of options on the base, and Finn’s already had some practical experience anyway. He sits in front of the controls as Poe stands on the ladder, leaning in to point out what’s what, BB-8 whirring somewhere behind them.

 

Poe leans his arms on the edge of the cockpit, and it’s absurd how casual the pose looks.

 

“Did you, you know, tell Rey what you’ve decided?” he asks, wiggling his fingers a little.

 

“Not yet,” Finn says. “Maybe we haven’t been asleep at the same time. Or maybe she just hasn’t reached out to me. I don’t know if I’m - I don’t know if it’s ever been me doing it.”

 

“You’ll talk to her soon,” Poe says, and BB-8 says something.

 

That’s another thing Finn wants to learn - how to speak binary. He’ll have to add it to the list.

 

“BB-8 says it misses Rey,” Poe says. “Which I already know, ‘cause it talks about her all the time. More than you do, even.”

 

He taps Finn on the shoulder, teasing, and Finn huffs out an embarrassed laugh. Poe taps him again, thoughtfully.

 

“Does it bother you?” he asks. “Not knowing. If you’re just Force-sensitive or - more.”

 

Finn ghosts his hands over the controls of the ship for a moment, letting his fingers rest on the buttons he’s starting to memorize.

 

“No,” he says. “As long as I can reach Rey, I don’t care who’s doing it.”

 

“What about the rest of it?” Poe asks.

 

Finn shrugs, looks up at him.

 

“I’m not gonna care about what I can’t do anymore,” he says. “I’m just gonna do as much as I can. My one bunkmate says she’s gonna show me podracing holos later. I didn’t even know podracing _existed_.”

 

He feels his eyes widen, his voice rise, his hands tighten on the controls, and he takes a little breath, sits back in the seat.

 

“There’s just so much,” he says, and Poe laughs a little.

 

“You know,” Poe says. “You seem…”

 

He stops, tilting his head as he looks at Finn.

 

“What?” Finn asks.

 

“Happier,” Poe says. “More comfortable. I was gonna say you seem back to normal, but I didn’t exactly know you for a long time before you got hurt, and running across the galaxy wasn’t exactly normal for you either, was it.”

 

Finn laughs.

 

“Yeah,” he says, “I was kind of running on adrenaline the whole time. Didn’t really stop to think at all. And then - that’s _all_ I did, once I got here.”

 

“But not anymore,” Poe says, and he reaches out to touch the collar of his jacket, his jacket that Finn is wearing.

 

“Not anymore,” Finn agrees.

 

-

 

Things in the Resistance are messy, and loud, and uncertain, and sometimes Finn gets dizzy, but he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, and he takes a step forward, and he’s fine.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr at [jaqueslaurent](jaqueslaurent.tumblr.com) (where i usually post fic) or [woebegone-kenobi](woebegone-kenobi.tumblr.com) (where i post star wars junk) because i decided to make things difficult for myself


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